


Bathed In Magic Greet

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Magic, Demons, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8425483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: Kurt and Mercedes are working on a ritual to call the Spirits and get power, but neither wants to cut themselves to drop blood in the middle of it.Blaine just happens to see the fire and hear the chanting from afar and thinks “nice, beach party” and comes closer.Too close.Woops?





	

There is something to be said about Coney Island in Autumn.

None of the joyous energy from the Summer, none of the crowds, and yet ...

There is a definite melancholic energy nonetheless, one that Blaine loves to get immersed in--especially this autumn, since he’s writing a dramatic play for his creative writing class, and all of this, the boardwalk, the beach, the crashing of the waves with the dark clouds looming over …

Yes, this is good stuff for him, even if everything takes a particularly spooky vibe when the Sun sets.

Like it is now.

The shadows grow and take the form of magical, malicious beings, and Blaine shivers in his [duffle coat](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/44/fe/96/44fe96bed51102984eb8af6e753b99c1.jpg).

_Better go home soon, make a hot chocolate and watch a movie under my quilt …_

Blaine’s plans for the evening melt away, though, when his ear catches some chanting from behind the Ferris wheel.

There is some light too, and Blaine’s interest is …

 _Piqued_.

A beach party in the middle of October?

Some people are braver than him, but he’s all for some good old fashion beach party and bonfire.

That could be fun, let’s see what’s going on.

**Between you and me, we all know what happens to the curious cat, right?**

\---

“ _Sister, we are waiting on the rock and chain_

 _Fly fast through the airwaves, meet with-_ -”

“You can sing til the world ends, I am not cutting myself for this damn ritual.”

“But--”

“Careful, I will cut you.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Mercedes crosses her arms over her chest, the blade of the knife glinting in the firelight. “Try me.”

Kurt also crosses his arms over his chest. “Come on, ‘Cedes,” he says quietly, “let’s not bring negative energy into this beautiful [circle ](http://media.tmz.com/2014/10/15/1015-craft-inset-2.jpg)we made.”

Mercedes looks at the candles, the beautiful light they shed on the beach and the waves. “You’re right, you’re right,” she says, tension melting away. “I just hate the part of the ritual that calls for blood.”

“Me too.”

They both sigh and look at the fire.

“How did we do it last year?”

“My periods happened right on time.”

“Right, right.”

Kurt is just about to offer to cut his own leg when he hears a shuffling sound from the boardwalk.

An intruder?

In the middle of their ritual?

Kurt looks back at Mercedes and there is a maniacal glint in her eyes.

_It can’t be a coincidence._

“Excuse me?” Kurt calls, stepping closer to Mercedes.

The man walks closer, and _oh boy_.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, and his voice matches his eyes, glinting like whiskey in the firelight, “but may I join your little party?”

Mercedes nudges Kurt with her elbow, and he stumbles forward.

“Sure, sure,” he stammers out. “We’re just celebrating … Fall!”

“Fall?”

The man looks amused, and fuck it if Kurt doesn’t want to taste that smile.

_Once we manage to make him sleep, maybe I’ll sneak in a kiss …_

_No, that’s just creepy._

“It’s such a lovely season,” Mercedes replies, pulling out a flask from her pocket. “The cold is just biting, the colors are everywhere …”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Duffle Coat says with a wide smile. “It’s just … unusual.”

Kurt starts humming Tom Jones’s song without being able to stop himself, and before he knows it, Duffle Coat is harmonizing with him, the flask going back and forth between the three of them.

The man--”Blaine, I’m Blaine, so nice to meet you”--is far too adorable for Kurt’s sanity, and the deeper they go into the night, the less Kurt feels like stabbing him to get his blood and seal the pact with the Ancient Powers that has granted them both a burst of powers ever since they moved to New York.

Blaine is hot, he’s cute, he’s endearing, he’s capitale H, hot, and he seems to enjoy Kurt’s dorky sense of humor.

And his hands always find Kurt’s arm before he faceplants in the sand.

“Kurt, come on,” Mercedes whisper-shouts in his ear while Blaine is … “dancing” around the fire, the flask in his hand, “he’s all but falling asleep on us, thanks to the passionflower--go cut him, put him to sleep and then put him in your bed!” she adds while waggling her eyebrows.

“Cedes!”

“What.”

“I don’t--I’m not--,” Kurt stammers, and Mercedes gives him her best “are you fucking kidding me boy” look.

Kurt should know, they perfected it together back in Lima.

“I just want to finish this,” he manages to say, handing her the “regular” bottle of alcohol and changes the cork of it into the elaborated knife needed for the ceremony. “Let’s slice him or something, and we’ll call the cops once we’re back on the subway.”

“Slice? _Me_?”

Blaine’s voice comes up from behind them, louder than they both expected.

They both turn to face him, and Kurt is instantly torn between arousal and fear.

Not just a healthy amount of fear that appears in humans’ hearts when it’s dark outside.

No, the fear that raises Kurt’s hair on his arms and the back of his neck is a deeper one, one that reaches for his guts and twists it into knots.

Because Blaine?

Cute, sweet, slightly dorky Blaine?

Now has fangs--very very sharp ones--and black eyes without a pupil.

Six of [them](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/15/64/60/1564600606624c8e77bcb262fa5c349b.jpg).

“No,” he growls, and it’s like his voice echoes in Kurt’s bone, “I don’t think so.”

_Oops?_

“Although,” Blaine continues, tapping his chin with a long, clawed pointing finger, “you did welcome me into your circle.”

_Gulps._

“I suppose I could help you with the Ancient guys.”

_Oh?_

“You--you would?” Mercedes asks slowly, her grip on Kurt’s hand relaxing.

Funny, he hadn’t even noticed that she was breaking his bones.

Blaine turns his dark eyes to Kurt, and even with the fangs, his smile in inherently sweet. “I … could be persuaded.”

Kurt’s eyes widen, and he can feel his face heating up.

_Ohhh?_

“Oh reaaally,” Mercedes comments, nudging him forward.

With his luck and usual grace, Kurt stumbles in the sand--but once again, Blaine is there to keep him from falling, just like he has been all through the night.

“Ah there you are,” he whispers in his ear--and this time around, it does vibrate through _all_ of Kurt’s body--, “you have no idea how long I’ve been looking for you.”

**Between you and me, the Ancient Spirits can easily be pleased with other … um, body fluids.**

**Blood simply has a nice dramatic flair to it.**

**But yeah, other donations in nature are accepted as payment without too much of a fuss--especially when it’s given so generously.**

**And profusely.**


End file.
